


And... Yeah

by Nebulad



Series: Whiskey Molotov [14]
Category: Fallout 4
Genre: F/M, First Kisses, Fluff
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-05-01
Updated: 2016-05-01
Packaged: 2018-06-05 17:45:03
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,323
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6714769
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Nebulad/pseuds/Nebulad
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>He <i>liked</i> when she’d said his name, even though it felt less like Hancock and more like he’d wanted McDonough to be. It was different than ma hollering for him on the docks or his dickshit brother bitching it a room over. He’d teased her at first with some <i>whisper my naked name, Sunshine,</i> but then she’d leaned in and pressed it right against his ear and… <i>yeah</i>. Never any stepping back required with Audrey— he’d keep as close as goddamn possible to her at all times.</p>
            </blockquote>





	And... Yeah

The roof of Greentech Genetics seemed a weird place to camp out when Audrey first suggested it, but the view was growing on Hancock. The stars came out all sparkly-clear and the moon seemed fucking _huge_ , and the city lit up in familiar places practically carved into map on his skin. Diamond City over there, Goodneighbor nearby, Drey’s scattered settlements with improvised generators, fires lit by muties who wouldn’t think to look up, raider fairy lights… Commonwealth was a whole hell of a lot prettier when you took a step back.

Audrey stretched in the corner of his eye, finally having lit enough lanterns to light the very edges of their improvised camp and… _yeah._ He didn’t have to take a step back for that one; sandy blonde with defined muscles and stick’n’pokes enough to qualify her as a canvas. She should have come with one of those plaques laying around the Old State: _please do not touch the display._

Not that he’d ever try to. John Hancock wasn’t as bone ass stupid as people thought— for all his sexy zombie king shit, he knew there were lines you didn’t cross unless you were a desperate dick with no regard for other people’s feelings. The Ghoul/Human line was drawn sharp in the sand, and even darker around a pre-war babe whose first glimpse at a ghoul had been booking it from the ferals in Cambridge.

 _She_ crossed the line all the time though, sailing right on by it as she plopped next to him and poured herself around him like quicksand. He was pulled tight against her when her arm snaked around his back and her head perched on his shoulder— trying to suck up all his body heat, the fucking leech. “Mr. Mayor,” she said in her big business voice.

“Freezer Senior,” he replied in his. She nudged him.

“Dickhead,” she scolded, looking out over the city. She gestured outwards, her arms all torn to pieces from a mongrel that got too close. He kept telling her that a combat knife on her thigh wasn’t worth dick all when the sniper rifle got knocked out of her hands, but he always got an indifferent _that’s what I keep you around for, Shotgun._ “Told you it was nice up here.”

“Didn’t doubt ya.” They were well away from the edge, just close enough to be able to see over the lip of the building. Drey’d set up a few crates for them to lean on, but the way they were sitting Hancock didn’t have anything to do with the arm closest to Audrey besides pull it around her. He did, his ridged fingers sliding over her hip skin and an old burn from a Brotherhood rifle— _friendly fire from Danse,_ she’d told him.

They were real quiet for a while, and Hancock was almost fucking asleep when she murmured “Hey John?” against his shoulder. He was getting John’ed which put him in a weird spot instantly. She’d asked special permission to use his first name— not like he gave a shit considering it was technically his new name too, but he got where she was coming from. Names were a personal business and when someone introduced themselves as one and then mentioned another, it was pretty fucking rude to start using the one that they didn’t.

He _liked_ when she’d said his name, even though it felt less like Hancock and more like he’d wanted McDonough to be. It was different than ma hollering for him on the docks or his dickshit brother bitching it a room over. He’d teased her at first with some _whisper my naked name, Sunshine,_ but then she’d leaned in and pressed it right against his ear and… _yeah._ Never any stepping back required with Audrey— he’d keep as close as goddamn possible to her at all times.

“Yeah, Sunshine?” he asked. She never asked where the pet name came from but it didn’t seem to bother her so he stuck with it. He wasn’t real sure where it’d come from either, only that it _fit._ Ma used to have a song about sunshine but the words got bleached right out of his skull over the years— natural consequence of his lifestyle, though if he was picking and choosing he might’ve kept the lullaby.

“Can I tell you something?”

“Yeah.”

“If you laugh at me—”

“Ain’t gunna laugh,” he promised.

“Don’t wanna make shit weird between us.”

“We got a lot a weird between the both of us, but I think we keep it pretty easy,” he said. She didn’t usually get this tense about talking to him and he wondered if he should be worried. Luckily he was too tired to be worried— if it was bad then it’d hurt later, but he was fine at the moment.

“Brought you up here for a reason,” she said, and she was playing with the flag around his waist. She teased him about it but she never quit touching it, and his reaction was usually in the high thousands but he was concentrating too hard on staying cool to bother with it. He just watched her fingers tug the flag, looking at the bruised up knuckles and dry skin.

“Push me off?” he asked, to lighten her mood. She laughed a bit too close to his neck for comfort and he regretted saying it. It worked, he figured, but he was delaying whatever she was leading up to.

“Think I love you, John.”

He let it sink in for too long, thinking he was processing it. He wasn’t— it was just getting into his skin and soaking into his bones without ever really registering. “Love you too, Drey,” he said, because he did. She was a good friend and all around selfless person. She was funny and watching her bring justice to the Commonwealth made him tingle a little, and he loved her.

“Like _love_ love,” she said, then frowned. “No, like… like _romance_ love. You know?” she asked.

“I’ve heard of it,” he told her, and his lungs felt too small to work right.

“Sorry.”

“Christ, don’t be sorry.” He sounded hoarser than usual.

“It isn’t weird now right?”

“You’re too far ahead of me Sunshine,” he said finally, sitting up proper and straightening himself out. She untangled herself from him, opting to have this conversation face to face. Hancock wasn’t sure that’d work in his favour.

“I shouldn’t have said nothin’.” He didn’t know how this conversation had turned so that she thought he was saying _no._ He _should_ have been saying no, because a chemhead mayor of a criminal town… shit if he were her friend watching her make this decision he’d be saying no.

“You gotta… spell this out for me,” he begged her.

“How do I make it more clear?” she asked, rubbing the back of her neck. She was starting to wilt but he was trying to find whatever it was inside himself that she was seeing when she looked at him. There wasn’t a whole lot about him that deserved anyone’s love let alone someone like her. He still had to pinch himself if he thought too hard about Fahr’s unwavering belief in him, or Daisy’s thoughtless trust, or Magnolia’s dedication to Goodneighbor and the town he’d built. All of _them,_ and now _her._ He hadn’t done anything good enough for any of it.

She scooted a bit closer and he must have moved like he was inviting her. He _was_ — he shouldn’t have— but he wanted her so close that there was nothing left. She was sitting on him and he was watching her and she leaned over until their faces were right against each other. “I love you,” she said, and he could feel the words on his mouth even before he blurted them in return. _I love you, I love you, I love you._

And he fucking did.

**Author's Note:**

> The delicate and uncomfortable balance of "Hancock overcompensates so no one knows how fragile he is" and "I don't want to write sad Hancock I want him to be happy godammnit". The balance is never struck. [My writing blog is here](http://nebulaad.tumblr.com) follow and you can just goddamn tell me to write shit and with a little patience and pixie dust I'll probably get it done and posted.


End file.
